Prepare Yourself
by BlackRoseEden
Summary: Overwhelmed by a life not worth living, William T. Spears was slowly drowning in a world of numbers and monotone colors until one day; a mysterious business card appears on his desk. One phone call, one door, one chance to survive the slow death of life. But at what price? OCC AU BDSM
1. Chapter 1

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Just a little two part one shot for a fellow fan fic friend!

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Brown.

Brown tweed.

Plain . . . boring . . . itchy . . .

Unimaginative and stale.

The dryness in his mouth made him want to choke; it was stifling sitting in a room so depleted of character and flavor that William T. Spears would have gladly taken a sharp knife across his throat.

Clutching his dark brown attaché case on his lap, sweat began to pool on his brows.

Brown, plain boring brown, it ruled his life.

Surveying the confines of the small waiting room, the young actuary noted the dated faux mahogany paneling on the walls, the threadbare grey and taupe Berber carpeting and the generic framed prints of horses and farmland. All playing at what appeared to be a lame attempt at conservative decorum in the room. It was all so sad and meaningless, totally devoid of originality.

Much like his own life.

He began his days at 5:30 am sharp. Starting with calisthenics, workout which would last approximately 45 minutes, followed by a quick shower and a properly made cup of English Breakfast Tea. His morning meal was always the same; dry toast, one tablespoon of orange marmalade, a poached egg and finished with a multivitamin and a full 8 ounces of water.

Work was 9 to 5.

No overtime. Ever.

Upon coming home he would drop by the local green grocer for items to make for dinner. Consistently 30% protein, 30% fiber, and 40% carbohydrates.

At exactly 8:30 pm the evening news would occupy his attention for an hour, afterwards the nightly ritual of shower, brushing his teeth, flossing, laying out his suit for the next day, and shining his shoes would take up at least 45 minutes of his time.

Then promptly to bed before 10 pm.

And he would lay there.

And stare at the ceiling.

Every day, every night.

And he would allow himself about 10 minutes of unrestrained weeping.

It would begin with the burning sensation circling behind his eyes; the emptiness of his life unfolding before him. Tears would collect in large pools and trickle down into his earlobes as his eyes locked upon the beige colored ceiling. It was all so dead, so incredibly vacant.

Before the sobbing would cease, his hand would circle around his stiff cock and after 5 minutes he would effectively wrench a lackluster orgasm from his weary body.

Life was a living death, he told himself every night.

Shifting uncomfortably in his seat, his bright green eyes flitted about the room until they finally rested upon the young secretary seated behind a simple black corner desk. Her thin hands tapped away at the keys of her Mac notebook; glasses perched at the edge of her now. Her bright scarlet hair was twisted in a tight bun atop her head; barely giving him a glance.

What had he gotten himself into? he wondered, eying her high colored crisp white shirt, she reminded him of a prudish librarian. Recalling the strange incident one week prior, Spears thought back to the card.

The card.

It had been another monotonous day, just like all the others, nothing special about it. He had had gone for his daily 11 am bathroom break and was just settling back into his chair when he noticed the business card at the center of his desk.

A black, glossy card with an elegant silver script scrawled delicately across the front.

No design. Just words.

Toboso & Co.

Flipping the card over, he discovered a phone number.

He thought about tossing it in his wastebasket, yet the simplicity of the card intrigued him. A strange feeling he had not known for so long.

Curiosity.

That night, instead of his routine cathartic masturbation and crying, he stared blankly at the card wondering what to do.

What did this mean?

It took a week before he mustered up enough courage to dial the mystery digits.

"Are you prepared?" A feminine voice sternly greeted him after two rings.

Spears gripped his phone tightly; lying on his bed, he was taken aback by the strange salutation.

"Ah, excuse me?" He hesitated, thinking ahead of what he should say. "Who is-"

"Are you prepared?" Came the curt reply.

Closing his eyes, Spears took a deep breath. "Yes." He hissed.

"Friday night, 10 pm, come to the corner of 49th and Vine, we are the red brick building next to the florist. Bring $5,000 in cash and come alone." She instructed coolly.

His mouth went agape. "Wh-What?" He stammered in disbelief. "Tha - That's insane! 5000? For something I know nothing about? I don't even know what you're offering! Do you take me for a fool?"

"No," the voice replied, its business type tone unnerved him. "I take you for a desperate soul. Why else would you call the number from the back of a random business card?"

She had him there, he thought miserably.

"Fine." He relented and the phone went dead.

"Mr. Spears?"

The man's head snapped up, still fuzzy from the memory. "Y-Yes?" He replied.

The secretary was holding out a clipboard with a sheet attached, in her other hand she held out a pen. "You will need to read this document, date and sign your name where I placed an X on the lower left hand side." She smiled widely and motioned for him to grab the clipboard. "We cannot proceed without the appropriate consent from you."

"Consent?" He quirked an eyebrow, striding towards the desk. "Consent for what?"

"For the services you paid for." She smiled that strange emotionless smile again, her deep brown eyes detached and unwavering. "Please take your seat; you will be called in five minutes."

Spears took the clipboard. "But-"

"Please take your seat; you will be called in five minutes." She repeated.

Spears ducked his head and walked slowly back to his seat. He recognized the voice on the phone as belonging to the secretary. But what was awaiting him! A shiver ran up his spine, this was so unlike him. Reserved, refined, predictable, how had he fallen into something so amazingly questionable? Had he lost his mind? His sense of reasoning? Had his loneliness become too much to bear? He had heard of stories about everyday normal people who suddenly snap and act out in ways completely foreign to what they generally were. Had he become one of those?

Scanning the paper quickly, he expected a standard legal documentation concerning liabilities.

What he saw sent red flags all over the place.

. . . person of service not responsible for bodily injury nor mental complications . . . pursuant of service must adhere to strict and private confidentiality agreement . . . waive all legal rights to litigation . . .

"What the Hell?" He breathed, feeling his body tense up. "I can't-!"

And yet, he signed and dated the document.

Against the wall, right above the secretary's desk area, a small round white faced clock ticked noisily. It was 9:57 pm.

"Papers, please." The young woman held out a waiting hand. Spears rose from his chair and handed her the board, suddenly noticing her shiny black manicured nails. Details were important to him, details and specific information.

He spent his waking moments reading and thinking, analyzing and calculating, thinking and thinking and thinking. Noticing her edgy nail polish meant nothing, it did not bring clarification to his current situation, it certainly did not make him feel any less anxious over what was going to transpire behind the simple six panel dark wood door right next to her desk. Meaningless information, his life was filled with it.

What was behind the door, he wondered, settling back into his seat.

Watching the ticking second hand on the cheap plastic clock, he could feel his heart thump faster as it neared 10 pm.

Here we go.

10 pm.

"You may enter." The scarlet haired woman informed him, gesturing towards the door. "Please, enjoy your visit."

The actuary stood up slowly, dread pooling deep within his stomach. "Wha-what is behind that door?" He spoke haltingly, balling his fists so tightly at his sides that his nails bit sharply into his palms.

"Anything you desire." She whispered, passing the tip of her tongue slowly along her glossy red bottom lip. She perched her chin atop both interlocked hands and winked. "I promise you, whatever you have now, does not exist on the other side of that door."

Pressing his lips tightly together, Spears thought of what he did have. Presently speaking, he held an excellent position for an excellent company. His apartment was considered above par in an affluent neighborhood known for its elegance. Money was never an issue; anything he ever wanted was within financial reach. His looks were above average; his physique was in top form. Did he truly need anything more?

What else did he need?

"I-I don't know what . . ." he paused, looking away from the secretary. "I don't know . . . what I need." He confessed,.

Nodding her head, the young woman tapped the desk with the tip of her dark nail. "When your body is hungry, it's just hungry." She gave him a serious look and tilted her head towards the door. "It can't tell whether it's hungry for chicken or steak or fish, it just knows that it's hungry. Our desires always tell us what we want to eat, so think of it as you being hungry, but not knowing what's in the fridge yet."

Hungry, he thought. Am I hungry?

His feet carried him, almost mindlessly towards the door. He watched his trembling hand reach out to the rounded brass doorknob, wrap around it and twist until he heard a loud click.

Darkness, it was dark and warm. The air seemed to swallow him as he entered the room.

Musky Egyptian oil.

Red velvet curtains.

White satin sheets.

Low lit candelabras

His bespectacled eyes ran rampant throughout the bedroom he had just entered into. Details! Details! Details! His mind screamed as he took in the strange surroundings of the sparsely furnished room.

It was a simple square shaped room with a large king sized bed in the middle. The mattress was housed in a wrought iron black frame with bright white satin sheets and pillowcases. The canvas bed boasted large plush looking red velvet curtains all around its perimeter. Black side tables, each with its own burning candelabra, flanked the cloud like bed. The walls were covered in deep brown wallpaper, giving the room an almost cavernous feeling.

As unbelievable as it seemed, the room was even tackier than the waiting room.

Breathing deeply, Spears turned to survey the rest of the room and was met with the coldest glare he had ever seen in his life. A pair of crimson cat like eyes staring dead at him from the left corner of the room. Spears felt his body go numb with fear.

He could only be described as beautifully frightening; seated on a maroon plush ottoman with his legs crossed and his head leaning lazily against a closed fist. His skin pallor was pure ivory, his long shoulder length hair was a silky inky black. Spears noticed how elegant he appeared, clothed in what looked to be a butler's uniform complete with white gloved hands and patent leather dress shoes.

"Good evening sir." He purred in a voice both deep and rich, a smirk suddenly appearing across his high cheek boned face. "Are you prepared?"

Spears gulped. "F-for what?" He whispered, fearful of the crow-like man eyeing him as if he were a meal.

"For what, you ask?" The dark man chuckled. "Surely you're not here out of some silly whim, hm?" Perfect rows of gleaming white teeth greeted Spears, it reminded him of a shark's.

"I-I need to leave!" Whirling around, he reached for the doorknob. Spears was terrified, uncertain of what exactly he had just entered into. Everything seemed wrong and unnatural, the money would be damned, he assured himself, he just needed to go home and-

Go home and-?

He stopped mid step, his long fingers barely brushing against the brass knob.

"Is there anything to run back to, Mr. William T. Spears?"

Turning slowly around to again face the obviously snickering man, Spears felt panic settling onto his chest. "What did you say?" He hissed.

"Every day, for the past ten years you spent your days analyzing the financial costs of risk and uncertainty." The crow man leaned forward in his seat; his face suddenly stone like and serious.

"All day, every day you calculate, you theorize and you analyze the likelihood that specific events will occur. Your entire life is based on assuming upon mathematical formulas, what might happen. What may happen. What could happen." Narrowing his eyes at the now visibly upset man, the seated man shook his head sadly.

"My God, your entire life is built upon avoiding risk. You produce nothing, nothing, but ideas other people procure and use to establish their own futures, their own successes."

"No!" Spears cried, wiping from his forehead. "That is not-"

"Why are you here?" He demanded.

"I don't know!"

"Why are you here?"

I-I don't know!"

The dark man bolted from his seat and grabbed a shocked Spears around his throat with one hand, quickly slamming him against the wall, pressing his body hard against him until Spears was pinned and helpless.

"Wha-what the fuck are you doing?" Spears gasped, struggling to free himself as the grip around his throat tightened.

"I am Sebastian." The man grunted, his lips brushing against Spears's ear. "And you are mine tonight."

"What?" He felt lightheaded from the intensity of fear coursing through his body. "No! No! Please, I don't want this!" He begged.

"I will tell you the truth, my lovely pet. You knew, deep within your gut, deep within your heart, that you were two steps away from ending this miserable paltry excuse of a life. You knew if something did not change, if you did not take that grand step into the rabbit's hole, you were going to finally die that physical death you've been contemplating."

"Go ahead," releasing his fingers from around Spears's neck, Sebastian clasped the man's chin and forced him to meet his eyes. "Go ahead and tell me I'm wrong." He challenged.


	2. Chapter 2

"What is your safe word?"

William blinked in confusion, his bright green eyes scanned the amused look on Sebastian's face. "Safe word?" He echoed, wrinkling his forehead. "What do you mean?"

"If the situation becomes much more then you can possibly handle, you will need a way to communicate your need for things to come to an end." Sebastian smiled gently, his white teeth glistened in the low lit room. "We require a safe word."

"Wouldn't the word 'Stop' suffice?" Spears retorted.

The dark haired man uttered a deep chuckle, shaking his head he reached out and stroked his fingertips against Spears's pale cheek. "Screaming 'stop' is far too instinctual." He explained. "A safe word forces you to think about whether or not you truly want the experience to be halted."

"Ridiculous." The bespeckled man muttered, slapping Sebastian's hand away from his face. "Fine! A safe word, right? How about . . . " he paused, glancing around the room in a desperate search to think up of something non embarrassing and to the point "Ah! Alright!" He exclaimed, looking Sebastian straight in the face. "My safe word is 'Reaper'!"

Sebastian cocked his head to the side. "Reaper? Are you into necrophilia? I'm afraid you may be in the wrong place, this establishment does not consent to those activities-"

"Of course not, you dolt!" Spears spat, his face reddening from sudden anger. "It happens to be the name of the street where I work!"

A smirk settled on Sebastian's face. "How very droll of you." He spoke lowly, stepping forward until his chest bumped against Spears's. Their intermingling breaths felt warm and smelled of honey and mint, sending a dizzying wave through William's head. The excitement and anxiety of what could and might happen was truly exhilarating for the actuary who had begun to wonder if he himself would be his own reaper.

"It is time." Sebastian whispered, a scarlet glow seemed to emanate from his cat like eyes.

Why did he seem so otherworldly? Spears thought numbly. The room was swaying before his eyes and a faint scent of something herbal was slowly permeating the air.

"Take off your clothes." Sebastian pressed his lips against the trembling man's ear, his slippery tongue snaking its way around Spears's earlobe, sending a shiver throughout his thin body. "Your Master is coming for you."

"M-my m-master?" William stammered as he fought to keep his focus. His arms felt like lead, hanging uselessly at his sides. Had he been unknowingly drugged? He thought in a panic. The herbal smell grew more intense as the lights in the room grew dimmer and dimmer. "B-but I thought you-"

" No no, I am not your master." Sebastian informed him in a voice barely above a whisper. "I am the Dungeon Monitor. I watch over our Master and slaves."

Spears felt a slip of hand reach under his shirt and heard the popping of buttons as the medicinal air poured over his exposed skin. "Slaves?" He croaked, swallowing the knot in his throat.

"Yes." Another hand slid stealthily down the front of his pants and the metallic clack of his belt buckle hitting the floor resonated in his ears. "You are a slave tonight so prepare yourself."

And the world went black.

There was a hollowness in the central core of William's heart and the nightmares of his past echoed bitterly against the cavernous walls. Regret, sharp and brutal in its hopelessness, pressed a heavy heel down on his chest until he could barely breathe.

His breath, ragged with fear and sudden arousal, filled the thick air with desperate panting sounds. A blindfold was wound tightly around his eyes, effectively shutting out every speck of light in the room. All there was existing at that moment was darkness, the smell of herbs, perfumed oil, and pungent sweat rested against his naked skin.

He had been placed in a kneeling position against the carpeted floor, arms bound behind him in what felt like a corset of nylon rope. His ankles were cinched together by what felt like leather or vinyl straps, he could not tell, and there was something akin to a loin cloth covering his private area. It was all so alien and surreal that he could not even visualize what he must have looked like. Perhaps it was fear keeping him from conjuring up that image of himself, prone and helpless.

When had the world become so nebulous in its purpose? He thought, struggling to keep his breathing steadily passing in and out through his nostrils.

His teeth were clamped down tightly, grating against a metal bar securely fastened in his mouth and held firmly at each end by a leather strap tied tightly around the back of his head. The mouth bit was heavy and left a sour metallic taste against his tongue. The cold slippery surface clacked noisily against his teeth and he fought the urge to gag everytime he swallowed the excess saliva pooling underneath his tongue.

The scraping of a flat boot heel against his exposed chest snapped into a super awareness in which William almost toppled over to the side from shock.

"My apologies, I did not mean to frighten you." Sebastian's voice chuckled through the the darkness, causing William to maneuver his head towards the direction of the voice. "The Master wishes you to sit up straighter, lest he punishes you."

A scowl settled on Spears's face. Punish? He thought, rage welling up as he attempted to choke out a heated response. A series of spasmodic coughs and globs of drool spewed from his clamped mouth, the metal bit clicking loudly against his molars.

"When one pushes past the boundaries of pain, the raw and uninhibited soul of man is exposed." The voice was now whispering into his right ear, the breath which spilled hot and liquid smooth down the side of his neck seemed to calm the fury welling up within his chest.

"Where do you think pleasure is derived from? Here?" William gasped as the pressure of a heavy booted foot pressed firmly against his hardened crotch. "I could spout scientific jargon, point out the millions of neurological facts surrounding our nervous system. Complete bullshit, all misguided notions of how limited our desires may is plenty of knowledge out there regarding our erogenous zones, but why should I belittle our spiritual ability to obtain Nirvana in our loins?"

Spears clenched his teeth on the bit as the boot rubbed his member slowly, taking time to plant the heel against the tip and squeeze it against the side of his thigh. It hurt, it hurt like pins and needles being driven into his skin, but why, why was he still hard? "Will you submit to the will of the Master? Do you want to see the face of God?"

Sebastian removed his foot from William's groin and stepped away, giving the trembling mess of a man before him a moment to register what had just occurred. Strip them apart, like an onion, layer by layer, was how he was taught. Tear apart the excess fat of their empty lives and prepare them to be feasted upon so that the dizzying pleasures of life would be opened to them. These soulless zombies of modern life, living day in and day out their remote and fearful existences. It was his life path, his honor to use the gift of pain in order to bring them peace.

William felt the immediate release of his dick from the unforgiving pain and yet a crushing loneliness engulfed him. What the Hell? He thought frantically, tears beginning to emerge under the blindfold. What is this?

"P-please!" He begged in a garbled voice, licking the bit in order to move it forward so that he could speak clearly. "H-help me!" He cried. The desperation was rising, drowning him little by little. His knees rubbed hard against the carpet sending burning waves up his thighs "D-don't s-stop!" He begged.

"As you wish." Came the cool reply and the high pitched creak of an opening door caught Spears's attention.

It may have had to do with the heightened senses, the ink black vision, or the burning incense intoxicating his mind, but the presence of something even more powerful had made itself known in the room. Lowering his head until his chin was almost touching his chest, William listened to the airy swishing sound of fabric billowing with movement across the room. The soft rush of breezy air around him had him imagining that a giant delicate butterfly was hovering above his head.

Nothing could have been further from the truth.

"Remove his blindfold." The voice was firm and cold in its order; clipped and tight, but youthful in its tone. Unlike the rich baritone voice belonging to Sebastian, this one was curt and higher in pitch; refined for its age and playful.

"But Master-"

"Obey my order." The immediate response, spoken eerily calm, seemed to shut Sebastian down completely.

William tensed up as long fingers slipped under the eyes mask resting on his face and pulled the darkness away from him. Blinking his eyes rapidly, William fought against the blinding onslaught of amber light surrounding the room. Thankfully, he was able to adjust his sight fairly quickly in the dim lighting and lifted his head in the direction of the young man's voice.

Green eyes widened in shock.

Before him, seated in the throne like chair with legs demurely crossed and arms resting leisurely on each side, was quite possibly the loveliest creature Spears had ever laid eyes upon.

His eyes slowly followed a path from the crown of impossibly shiny blue black hair cut conservatively above the jawline and swept in a flirtatious style to the side of his face down to the thin delicate legs encased in knee high vinyl high heeled boots. The young man could not have been more than 20 years old, his flawless ivory skin shone supple and bright and a pair of ocean blue eyes stared point blank at Spears without a hint of fear nor hesitation. Black vinyl and studded gauntlets were buckled on each arm and the boy wore what appeared to be a strapless Victorian style black lace and vinyl corset paired with tight matching shorts.

He was dressed as the embodiment of sin and decadence.

And he was known as The Master.

"What are you staring at, you piece of shit?" The Master growled, furrowing his angelic brows and glaring at the suddenly uncomfortable man.

Sebastian had been standing at the Master's side the entire time, nervously chewing on his bottom lip. "Master, have I prepared him well enough?" He asked shyly, unable to look at the petite powerhouse. William watched in awe at the sudden transformation Sebastian had undergone in the presence of the master.

"I suppose." He sighed, idly lifting one hand above his head until he could tap Sebastian's shoulder. The much taller man quickly dropped to his knees, eyes glued to the ground, and happily received several languid pats to his head. The gleaming material squeaked with every move he made.."Good boy." The blue eyed boy purred, smiling slightly without taking his gaze away from William. "Such a good boy."

"My master." Sebastian whispered, pleased with the attention being given to him. "My beautiful master." Turning his head sideways, Sebastian kissed the tips of his master's fingers and proceeded to nuzzle the palm of the small hand.

Watching in complete disbelief, Spears let his jaw go agape at the wonderment before him. It was like watching a five year old child being showered with unabashed adoration from a 180 lb Bull Mastiff.

"Do you know who I am?" The young man inquired, flicking Sebastian's nose and waving him off dismissively without sparing the pouting man a glance. The cold blue eyes were steel knives boring into William's face. "Do you know what I am?" He sneered.

Spears slowly shook his head, the clinking sound of the bit grated once again against his teeth.

Shifting his body to the edge of the chair, the dark haired boy uncrossed his legs and widened his thighs to show off milky white skin so porcelain smooth that the idea of him ever having any body hair was quite strange to William. He pressed his hands atop his knees and smiled, "I am The Master." He announced in a loud voice, turning his chin up with an air of royalty. "But I am known as Ciel."

Ciel? William nodded his understanding, but there was a look of confusion on his face.

Ciel laughed gaily, it sounded like a chorus of twittering birds. "How cute!" He exclaimed with a broad smile. "Here you are wondering how I could look like like this and yet be named 'Heaven', am I right?"

Exactly, William nodded once more, nervously trying to adjust his arms to the numbing pain of the restraints pulling at his limbs.

Lifting one of his legs, Ciel placed his heeled foot against William's chest and began to exert force against the pale skin. With a wicked grin spreading across his face, Ciel ground the pointed heel into the firm flesh right above Spears's nipple. A shot of electric pain burst through his body, tears springing up in Spears's eyes as the feeling of a warm liquid trickled down his breast.

"Oh, Master, you're using the new razor heeled boot I purchased for you!" Sebastian practically moaned, his face aglow with joy.

"William T. Spears." Ciel addressed him formally, his tone had become almost gentle and kind.

The change in atmosphere began to pull William out of his current agony. His eyes had been screwed shut as he bit down on the metal piece and struggled to move away from the offending boot. He wanted to scream, cry, curse them all and demand to be released from this crazy and out of control situation, but the safe word . .

The safe word!

His eyes snapped open, hot tears poured down his cheeks into his open mouth. The taste of salt and metal made him want to gag.

It reminded him of the ocean.

He couldn't say the safe word. If he said it, what then? It would end everything, right here, right now, before anything had really begun. And then what? Back to the office, back to the co-workers whispering behind doors everytime he passed by, back to his neighbors who never bothered him, back to the family he lost out of sheer pride, back to the life of the half living and half dead. What then?

"Why won't you scream?" William forced himself to focus his blurred vision on the face only mere inches from his own. Ciel had placed himself right in front of the kneeling man and was tracing circles upon his chest using his pointer finger and William's own spilled blood. "Why won't you scream, I wonder?" He mused, raking all five fingers down his abdomen, leaving bright red marks in their wake. "Scream, motherfucker." He commanded, grabbing hold of William's hardened member and squeezing it harshly. "Scream, you bitch!" He spat.

Blinding flashes of white light erupted in William's mind as he threw back his head and felt his body seize from the torturous manhandling of his penis. The more he writhed from the torment, the harder Ciel's hand bit down on his crotch. The clacking sound of the bit in his mouth and metallic ringing of chains and buckles resonated loudly in the room as well as the heavy gasping and heaving breaths pouring from Spears's mouth.

Yet he couldn't scream.

"William T. Spears!" Ciel called quietly, suddenly releasing the throbbing member. With both hands, the young man began to soothingly rub the abused limb, taking care to fondly his sac as well. The quick turnaround from pain to pleasure was sending William into an emotional state he had never in his life encountered. The pace was terrifying, one moment torture, the next pure bliss. It had him on edge and frightened, but he still could not say the safe word.

"Why don't you let that pretty voice of yours out?" William felt fingers tracing his jawline which was slick with sweat and saliva. Opening his eyes once more, he watched warily as Ciel unhooked the metal bit from his mouth. "Come on, let it all out." He coaxed, persing his pink tinged lips together and sweetily blowing cool air on his heated face.

The skin at the corners of his mouth were sore and irritated and his teeth ached, but he uttered not one complaint, not one sound of hurt.

"Master, shall we use the belt?" Sebastian asked hopefully, gesturing towards the bed where a number of toys lay strewn amongst the covers. Ciel ceased his ministrations and stared at William's reddened face. "The short whip is at your disposal as well as the truncheon and flat paddle-"

"No." He answered flatly, his hands gliding up Spears's trembling thighs until finally resting them on his bloody chest. "I will make him scream." He scraped his nails across William's chest and took purchase of his nipples between his fingers. "I said, let it out!" He grunted, twisting the perky nubs until Spears stood up from his knees and attempted to wrench his body free from the diminutive demon's grasp. Sebastian stepped forward and caught William by the throat with one hand.

"Kneel!" He bellowed, squeezing hard until he was sure he had cut off the writhing man's air supply. "Kneel before your master!"

Safe word! Spears's mind cried.

Dropping back heavily to his knees, searing pain continued to course like lightning throughout his body. Everything was becoming blurred once again.

"Let. It. Out." Ciel released the nipples, leaving them purplish blue from his roughness. Hauling back, he then landed a swift and sharp backhanded smack across Spears's chest. "Open up your fucking mouth and let it out!" He demanded, landing another smack against his groin.

William pitched forward, doubled over in pain, he felt his stomach turn and rumble from the instant need to vomit.

But the safe word would not come, it just would not appear.

Amidst the sickening pool of agony swirling in his central core, the could feel the swift movement of small hands removing the loincloth around his waist. His body felt heavy and weary from the ebb and flow of war and peace erupting on the battlefield which was now his body, but it was his mind and heart that had gone under siege.

Where was his voice? He wondered numbly, shivering as the cool air hit his exposed genitals.

Why can't I scream? His eyes stared at the wall papered ceiling with the deep red hue and aged crown molding.

The moist warmth of a small eager mouth engulfed his aching cock, silky lips slipped past the head and nestling into the light brown bush at the base, inhaling deeply the musky scent of sex and flesh. William's mouth dropped open as ecstasy and pain intermingled with one another. He could feel the dried blood crackling on his skin, the dull pulsing bruises on his nipples, the stinging scratches and welts on his body; his physical being was torn and tattered.

Like an onion, he was being peeled away, layer by layer.

Lowering his head to look down at the dark hair bobbing up and down between his legs, he could feel something stirring deep within his innermost self. There' s no name for it, no title for what kept him in line and trapped by a narrow path he had himself built, but that nameless "something" was alive and sitting like a vampire on his soul, sucking away until there would be nothing left.

"When was the last time you felt pleasure?" Sebastian asked quietly, his eyes never leaving the small figure servicing their client. "Think back carefully."

Spears closed his eyes as the delicious feel of a cat like tongue lapped at his skin, like a hungry little beast. Pleasure? He thought,

The ocean . . .

His thoughts began to tumble back, years flashed and time seemed to come to a standstill.

He was 9 years old, standing on the shore of the beach where his family had been vacationing one particular summer. The sky was a crisp bright blue, the sand incredibly hot and the water unbearably cold, but it was a perfect day. His parents had not fought, the nanny in charge of him was taking a nap, and there were no other children around to poke fun at his thick glasses and puny frame.

Yes, it was a perfect day.

Standing alone and feeling the icy water crash onto his feet, he felt at peace. Turning to look at the far end where a carnival had been set up by the boardwalk, William caught sight of a lone figure strolling along the shoreline.

He was very tall, muscular and trim with hair the color of honey and skin burnt coppery bronze. His gait was confident and his strides were long and languid. That very moment William felt a mastering between his legs that would haunt him for years to come. The mystery man held him in a seductive trance that bothered him because of the strangeness of the feelings. He was far too young to understand why at that moment he longed to touch that Indian Sun flesh.

That night, after his bath, he laid in bed and masturbated to the image of his bronze God. He had muffled his voice by burying his face into his pillow. In his innocence, he allowed the orgasm to carry him into a wildly unfettered howl which left him spent and panting against the cotton pillowcase. It was his first foray into the mysterious realm of carnal desires; the stepping over the threshold of naivette into a world filled with guilt and lust.

Later on in the dead of night he heard his parents arguing. It was the usual vicious fight which ended up with mother crying and accusing his father of betrayal. Footsteps thudded up and down the hallways of the vacation house, doors slammed, opened, and slammed again. William sighed deeply, and snuggled further into the protective covers of his bed. This too shall pass, he thought tiredly as he drifted back into sleep.

William understood that marriage did not necessarily mean love and a man and a woman were not always so compatible. The next morning his father was gone and William watched his mother drink herself into a stupor by mid afternoon. He shook his small head and wondered why they bothered staying together at all. He spent the day at the beach, his jade eyes scouring the shorelines in search of his golden haired Adonis.

When nightfall had come his father had still not returned and so the nanny tucked William into bed, kissed him goodnight, and told him that vacation time was over and they would return home in the morning. A few minutes after she had shut the lights and closed the door, William again masturbated to his fantasy and fell into a deep dreamless sleep.

He awoke to the screams of his nanny.

William's eyes shot open, wide with panic, and he began to scoot away from Ciel.

"No!" He gasped, pressing his thighs together in an attempt to force Ciel out from between his legs. "No!" His frantic movements caused Ciel to whip his head up in order to avoid being smacked in the face by his knees. "Get away!" He hissed.

"Sebastian." Ciel cocked his head to the side and motioned to the man to come to him. "Hold him down." He commanded.

His face was emotionless, almost as if he had expected this reaction from Spears. A trickle of drool had lingered on the side of his tulip lips and his cheeks were dusted pink. William gritted his teeth and shook his head, "S-Stay away!" He begged. "Don't touch me!"

"I've got him, Master." Sebastian nodded, quickly placing both hands on William's shoulders and forcing him back down to his submissive position. Spears was no match for the tall man with his strength and build.

"Stubborn little bitch." Ciel smirked. Crawling on all fours, he sauntered towards William and forced his legs wide open. As tiny as he was, Ciel was just as strong as Sebastian. "No safe word yet, but you refuse to let your voice out. Why is that?" He arched a thin eyebrow at the man who was now violently quivering before him. "Would you rather hold on to the poison or retch that bastard up?"

Standing straight, Ciel lifted his foot and kicked Spears square on his chest, sending the blubbering man tumbling backwards until he hit the floor. Arching his back, Spears felt his arms crushing underneath his own weight so he rolled to his side and drew his cuffed legs up to his chest and he was balled up in a fetal position.

His entire body was covered in a thick sheet of sweat and he shook terribly until his teeth chattered. The new cut on his chest stung and fresh blood poured from the wound onto the floor. He whimpered like a child; pitiful and broken.

Ciel chuckled, his hands resting on his hips as he studied the mess on the floor. "Toss this cunt onto the bed, Sebastian." Sweeping his hands through his hair he fluffed his slate colored locks and gave his partner a wry smile. "Its time to crack this one wide open."

Sebastian knelt down beside Spears and grabbed the disheveled man by the studded dog collar around his neck. "Shall I fasten his hands to the bedpost, Master?"

"Mmm, yes." He agreed, tapping his small chin with his fingers, "and i will need protection."

Sebastian sighed, roughly forcing Spears to his feet and earning a few choked coughs from the struggling man. "Of course." He muttered.

Flinging William like a rag doll on to the bed, Sebastian went about swiftly untying his arms and then using handcuffs that were attached to the bedpost to securely fasten William's arms to the bed.

His mind had become barely conscious as a result of the pain intermingled with fear and trauma as well as pleasure. It was a deadly cocktail of emotions and physical experiences. As his eyes slid close, Spears felt himself slipping back into the haunted past and suddenly his anxiety began to crackle in his heart. He wanted to jump out of his skin.

Straddling the quietly groaning man, Ciel reached behind himself and slowly unzipped his shorts. There was a "backdoor entrance" to his attire complete with the absence of underwear.

"Feel me, reach deep into my darkness." Ciel spoke softly, his words gossamer in their delicate state, wafting into his ears. "I give you pain so that you understand I'm very alive as you are. If you cannot understand suffering you will never understand ecstasy." He lowered himself onto William's desperate want, wincing at the girth slowly infiltrating his tight cavern. "Understand that we build these cages and we can tear them down. Please, please feel me and let everything out!"

William sucked in his breath and felt his groin explode with heat and exaltation. How long had he endured this life without feeling the ecstasy of self gratification? How long? How many years had he suffered without fulfilling his own sexual needs and desires? It had been longer than he wanted to admit, far longer than any human being should have allowed themselves.

The sounds of his screaming nanny reverberated through the dreamscape of his mind. The image of his mother, her skin bluish white, lying on the floor of her bedroom with her wrists slit wide open burned itself into his nightmares.

While I fondled myself and kept indecent thoughts my mother killed herself.

My mother killed herself.

My mother.

My mother.

William opened his eyes and watched Ciel rock back and forth, his face flushed crimson from the neck up. He looked like a beautiful and deadly porcelain doll ravaging his prone body.

Opening his mouth wide, William released the demons of his past through the most primal scream both Ciel and Sebastian had ever witnessed in their line of work. Spears wrenched the scream from the most base point of his shame, his fears, his frustration and resentment. His body tensed and heaved with every howl, every wretched wail finally torn free from William's core.

He screamed long and hard for the years he spent closeted and ashamed.

He screamed for his mother who left him alone in a world filled with strangers. He screamed for his father who abandoned him after betraying their family.

He screamed and screamed until his voice cracked and he was wracked by a mind numbing orgasm which left him panting and sobbing like a beaten dog. Every cell in his body, millions upon millions of human particles were electrified with his awakening. He was Lazarus, lurching towards the light at the entrance of the cave, breathing life once more after having death enclosed around his being for so long. Resurrected, revived.

His heart thudded painfully against his chest and his throat was dry and raw, but he was free.

He was free.

"Good boy." Ciel whispered into his ear, his chest pressed ever so lightly against Spears own drenched body. His stringy hair, wet from sweat and excursion, tickled the older man's cheek. "It's over, it's over, see? It's all been let out." William stared at the dewy fresh faced youth and let out a pent up breath followed by a low sob. "That's right." Ciel leaned in and began kissing the drops of tears pooling at the reddened rims of his eyes. "There's no need to be afraid anymore."

An hour later William sat fully clothed in the throne previously occupied by Ciel. After the vinyl clad imp had removed himself from the spent man Sebastian had led him to a private hot shower and then back to the room for "aftercare".

Aftercare is defined as the time after a BDSM scene or play session in which the participants calm down, discuss the previous events and their personal reactions to them, and slowly come back in touch with reality. Sebastian had explained the importance of aftercare to William as he wiped a lavender infused cloth over the man's wounded body.

"Our practice is exceptionally intense, resulting in chemical releases and reactions within one's body." Sebastian wrung out the cloth and proceeded to wrap a baby soft cotton towel around William. Grabbing hold of a bottle of lotion, the black haired man began to slather the vanilla scented cream along the thin expanse of his shoulders, taking caution not to touch the bandaged areas on William's chest. He kneaded the neck muscles with his thumbs and continued to speak in a reassuring voice. "We will take proper care of you until the very end."

A small snack table had been set up next to the chair, it's surface containing a bowl of grapes, wheat and rice crackers, several pieces of dark chocolate, a bottle of water and a cup of rose chamomile tea flavored with white honey. Ciel was perched like a dainty baby black bird, shrouded in a silk black robe, on the edge of the bed with a cup of tea resting on a saucer in his hands.

"Do eat and drink some more." He encouraged, pointing to the plate of chocolates. "Those are Royce chocolates straight from Japan."

"Did I do well, Master?" Sebastian kneeled on the floor at Ciel's feet, gazing hopefully up at the young man. "Did I?"

Spears imagined a pair of German Shepherd ears and a large wagging tail suiting the tall man just fine and he chuckled in spite of himself.

Ciel sighed. "Yes, yes, you did well." He rolled his large blue eyes and patted the raven crown with a look of impatience crossing his face. "But now is not your time, is it? Stop being so exhaustingly needy, what kind of Dungeon Monitor are you?"

"Yours and yours alone." Sebastian bowed his head and lapped at Ciel's boot with his long tongue. "My master." He moaned.

"Forgive him, he becomes terribly jealous when I give aftercare." Ciel apologized.

Spears picked up a piece of chocolate and stared at it for a few seconds before popping the velvety smooth concoction in his mouth. "I wonder, what will happen to me now." He whispered, glancing at the smiling boy.

Ciel took a languid sip of his tea, giving himself time to think. "Do you understand the symbolism of the caterpillar to the butterfly?" He asked simply, taking another drink. Sebastian lifted his head, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand and rested his head against Ciel's spindly legs.

Spears took purchase of his tea and nodded. "Transformation?"

"Somewhat." Ciel ruffled Sebastian's hair and looked at William thoughtfully. "Instinctively speaking the caterpillar understood that it could no longer live life in its present state and so it created a shell in order to evolve into something it itself so could not predict nor fathom the end result. It must have been extremely frightening to change what one had been born with, but in the end there was no more caterpillar and after much fighting and surviving through the darkness and death of winter when the light and the warmth finally came there emerged the butterfly. A creature more delicate and vulnerable then the sturdy caterpillar and yet no one is more free than when you are fluttering through the air and enrapturing the world with your beauty and your never ending energy."

William felt his heart swell at the lovely words pouring from Ciel. Was he truly reborn? Could he move forward, away from the ugliness of his past? Away from the shame and fear?

"You faced the depth of despair." Ciel lifted his chin and winked. "Clawed your way out from pain and misery, now peek over the edge and live."

William smiled, the soreness in his arms reminding him of the strength and courage he had never realized he possessed. "Yes."

**_"When the power of the shift rips the human body apart and transforms it into its new shape, there lives a second, less than a second, a mere shimmer of time when the mind is without a home, nobody to call its own. Existence is painless in there, nothing but formlessness beyond understanding. A secret place, it contains nothing but the essence of self, a lost self."_**

**_― Finn Marlowe, A Thread of Deepest Black_**


End file.
